


Crossing

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 07:22:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10917075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Sam crosses the rope bridge in Lothlórien.





	Crossing

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for this week’s [silmread.](http://silmread.tumblr.com/post/160668009170/26-lothl%C3%B3rien)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Lord of the Rings or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Though Legolas crossed the river on a single rope, nimble-footed and as awe-inspiring as ever, the elves are kind enough to string up what they call a bridge for the rest. To Sam, it’s as close to a true bridge as a weed is to a tree, but this whole journey thus far has been one long practice of ‘making do.’ Two ropes are strung above the first, and Pippin crosses between them like it’s very little trouble at all. Merry is less steady, and then it’s Frodo’s turn.

Sam holds his breath the entire time that Frodo’s crossing the wide flood. He’s petrified with fear that his master will slip and plunge into the water below, then be carried off before even the elves can save him. But Frodo goes slow and steady, never once missing a step. When he’s safely across and turning to wave at Sam, Sam’s so relieved he could weep. It worried him more than his own journey does.

Of course, he’d been trying not to think of it. With Gimli behind him, he’s next in line, and though he tries to hang back, Gimli gives his back a little shove and grunts, “Go on, lad!” Sam doubts Gimli is any keener on trusting the ropes, but there’s nothing they can do. It doesn’t look like the slender beam should be able to handle Sam’s weight. He’s half sure that if he sets foot on it, he’ll never reach solid ground again.

He probably wouldn’t be able to make that first step at all, if it weren’t for Frodo calling loud and clear across the river’s roar, “Go on, Sam. You can do it!” His voice fits right in with the forest, as lilting and song-like as an elf’s, and even more inspiring.

Sam still very much doubts the sentiment. But he finds his cheeks heating anyway, and he gives Frodo a sheepish smile. Then he sucks in a breath and moves almost on instinct—he’s always tried to do as Frodo says, not the least because Frodo’s always seemed so wise. He puts one foot on the rope, testing it, and tentatively lifts his hands to either side. 

The rope feels sturdy. It’s smooth, neither frayed nor coarse, dry despite the occasional splash. It’s much too thin for Sam’s wide foot, but he moves the other to it anyway. The rope doesn’t even sway. Petrified, Sam stands for a minute, staring down at the swift current he could never hope to swim, until Frodo calls again, “Come on, Sam! We’re waiting for you!” 

Frodo doesn’t sound hurried in the least. Just supportive, encouraging, like he’s always been. Sam isn’t particularly concerned with the others at the moment, but he thinks of _Frodo waiting for him_ , and he finds it easier to put one foot in front of the other.

He moves forward at a crawl, still looking down, even though he thinks it would be easier to focus across the way on Frodo’s blue eyes. His fear rules his face, but at least his faithfulness rules his feet. Foot by foot, he crosses, until finally he’s looking at green grass instead of clear water, and he stumbles off the ropes and onto the open space before him.

He could almost fall to his knees and kiss the ground, but instead, he only wilts with more relief. Thoroughly spent, he breathes, “Live and learn, as my gaffer used to say. Though he was thinking of gardening, not of roosting like a bird, nor of trying to walk like a spider. Not even my uncle Andy ever did a trick like that!” 

Frodo laughs and claps him on the shoulder with a proud smile, making it worth the trouble.


End file.
